Time Will Tell
by emi-kins
Summary: Isabella falls in love with the Captain of Prince Legolas' guard. What will she do when the prince asks for her hand in marriage? Light-hearted fairy-tale :).***COMPLETE***
1. The Prince of Mirkwood

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
1.  
  
It had been dreary and raining the day that Isabella's mother drowned in the raging floods that were the Forest River. Beneath the shadow of the Grey Mountains Liriliel had perished as her young daughter looked on. Isabella was only sixteen at that time, a mere baby by Elven standards, yet she stood bravely as her mother's passing was mourned by all who knew her, and she helped her grieving father to have the strength to go on. She never had the luxury of her own grief, for she had neither the time nor the energy to devote to it. So it was that the pain of her mother's death haunted the Elf-maiden even five hundred years later on a day when the rain poured down and thunder rattled the windows of the cottage she shared with her father.  
  
Their cottage was one of many nestled snuggly at the base of the Grey Mountains amid the luxurious dwellings occupied by Lords and Ladies of King Thranduil's court. They were three days' ride from Mirkwood's capitol. Though the sons and daughters of these Lords and Ladies had never seen the king or his palace, they all gave their allegiance to him unquestionably for their parents loved him with a strength of heart unequal to anything they had ever seen.  
  
Lightning flashed, further illuminating the torrential rain that fell in sheets from the sky. Isabella was terrified of water. So terrified that she had forced herself to learn how to swim and swim well, and then had avoided using that skill like the plague. She imagined the Forest River, now swollen and foaming as it had been on the day it had devoured her mother, and she tried not to tremble as she saw it all happen again in her mind. A tear formed in the corner of her eye and threatened to spill over until thunder clapped and rolled over the Grey Mountains, startling her from her recollections.  
  
"Isabella," called her father, "Come away from the window, Child. Stay warm here with me by the fire."  
  
She obeyed him, sitting near the hearth and gazing into the orange and yellow flames. "Father," she said softly, "Tell me about my mother again."  
  
Narulas left his chair and wrapped his daughter in a warm embrace. "You've heard the story many times, Lovely One…"  
  
"Tell me again," she requested, "please. When you speak of her, she does not seem so far away."  
  
"It is true," he replied. "And she does seem especially far on days like today, does she not?"  
  
Isabella nodded and leaned her head on her father's shoulder.  
  
"Liriliel, your mother, came to the kingdom of Mirkwood long ago from a distant realm where she lived by the sea," he began the story the same way every time. "And I loved her from the first moment I saw her. She had blue- green eyes and golden-red hair just like yours, and delicate features. You look very much like her, Isabella."  
  
"And where did you meet?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.  
  
"She was an honored guest at the court of King Thranduil and I was the captain of the King's guard." He smiled. "Liriliel was lonesome and longed for the sea, so the king encouraged me to spend time with her. We were wed in a grand ceremony not many years later at the palace amid cheering crowds of courtiers. Oh, how I loved her, Isabella. She was everything to me. The sun rose and set with her and my heart forever seemed to whisper her name. When she learned that she was with child, we left the courts of King Thranduil and settled here so that we could raise you far away from the politics and pressures of the palace. When the time came for your birth, your mother had a difficult time and no one knew what to do, as Elven childbirth is usually quite painless. So riders were sent to the village of Man that used to lie five miles to the west of here. They returned with a midwife named Isabella who saved both your mother's life and your own. When we tried to pay her, she refused, saying that she would gladly be of service to any noble of Thranduil's court."  
  
Isabella sighed. She had known for most of her life that she was a noble. Lady Isabella of Forest River was her proper title, and someday she would have to be presented alongside her peers to the prince as a prospective wife. The stubborn heir to Mirkwood's throne had still not chosen after two hundred years of looking, and his father was becoming impatient. The prince had not yet ventured to this remote corner of his kingdom, but Narulas' hopes were high for his daughter. She, however, only laughed at the possibility. What would a prince see in her? She lacked the refinement and riches of her peers, and she would be more likely to inadvertently offend the prince than to marry him. Besides, she had never even seen this Legolas. Why would she want to have anything to do with him?  
  
At just that moment, she was startled by a loud crash coming from the direction of their barn. Leaping to her feet, she ran to the window to see the door swinging wildly in the wind. "The latch on the barn door has broken again."  
  
"Come," said Narulas removing a heavy overcoat from a hook by the door. "The horses will be frightened."  
  
"No, Father. You stay here and I will go. It will only take a moment." With that, she fought her way out into howling tempest, her cloak whipping about her in the wind and the cold rain pummeling her mercilessly. She was breathless when she finally reached the shelter of the barn, ducking inside and peering out to hold the door so that she could fix the latch.  
  
How strange she thought to herself, It is not broken. She stepped backwards into the barn as she looked curiously at the doors. "Oh well, I shall check on the horses-." She stopped short when she turned to see eight male Elves in various stages of undress, their clothing and hair sopping wet. Their horses – giant noble beasts of royal bearing - stood nearby as well, having already been dried and tended. Two more Elves stood with arrows nocked and pointed right at her, and she shrieked before she could stop herself. Never mind that they bore the insignia of the king and wore the braids of the Royal House. She closed her eyes quickly, not daring to move, but not wanting to gaze upon unclad royal guards either, no matter how beautiful the brief glimpse she caught had been. "Please do not shoot, for we are friends of the king."  
  
"Do not move," said one of the guards, "and we will not shoot."  
  
Isabella gasped as she felt the hands of one of the Elves removing her shadowing hood and reaching for her weapons. Her eyes flew open in rage and she stamped her foot. "Remove your hands from me, vile pig. I may not look like a Lady, but I will be treated as one!"  
  
The guard's eyes widened and he stepped back at once, bowing his head. "Lady Liriliel? We had word many years ago that you had passed from this world!"  
  
His outburst drew the attention of the nine others who quickly dressed and drew near, led by one who gazed directly into her eyes as if waiting for something.  
  
Her eyes were full of questions as she looked first at him and then the others. "Lady Liriliel was my mother. She has been dead these five hundred years. I am," She had never spoken the words out loud, and she knew they would sound strange. "I am Lady Isabella of Forest River."  
  
"And I," said the one who still gazed into her eyes, "am Prince Legolas of Mirkwood."  
  
Mortified, she sank into a low curtsy. "Your Highness, forgive me. I did not recognize you." 


	2. Calen

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
2.  
  
Prince Legolas looked just like Isabella had imagined he would. Tall, lithe, and fair of face with the blond hair and blue eyes common to most of the Elves of Mirkwood, he gazed down at her with a mixture of authority and kindness. "Isabella of Forest River," he took her hand and kissed it gently. "I was grief-stricken when I heard the news of your mother's death. She was a delight to my father's Court and I remember her well. How fares your father?"  
  
She was taken aback by the prince's attention. Here she was dressed in a tunic and leggings with a plain gray cloak worn over them, her hair sopping wet and dripping into her eyes. This was not the meeting her father had had in mind between his daughter and Prince Legolas. She blushed in embarrassment as she replied, "My father is well, Your Highness, though he grieves my mother's death still. He sits in yonder cottage if you and your party would like to join him. There you will find warmth and plenty to eat while I provide the same for your horses."  
  
The prince's gaze met her own for a brief moment and he smiled. "Thank you, Lady Isabella. I for one should like to catch up on old times with Narulas. He was a great friend to the king."  
  
"I shall stay behind to help with the horses, though I also look forward to seeing Thranduil's former captain," said the guard who stood nearest Prince Legolas. He was a few inches shorter than the prince, lean and well muscled as any warrior would be. His chiseled features were set off by eyes a shade darker than Legolas', and his long blond hair was pulled back on top with three slender braids adorning one side, denoting his high rank. He was the captain of Legolas' guard, the same position Isabella's father had once held for the king.  
  
Legolas turned in surprise. "You need not. One of the others can-"  
  
"I would like to, Your Highness," he interrupted.  
  
Isabella looked at the floor and tried not to panic as she realized that he was the one who had attempted to take her weapons. Why oh why must her tongue have a mind of its own?  
  
"Very well, then," said the prince, preparing himself once again to enter the raging tempest that blew around them.  
  
***  
  
"I am sorry that I called you a vile pig," said Isabella mournfully as soon as the others had gone. "I was startled, you see, and-"  
  
"Please, Lady Isabella," he said kindly, "There is no need for an apology. I should not have been so quick to judge you as a threat, especially since we are trespassing on your father's land."  
  
"Nay, My Lord. They who come in the name of the king would never be considered trespassers on this land. You are welcome here for as long as you wish to stay." With that she turned to a large cabinet against the far wall. From it she pulled ten warm horse blankets and began placing them gently over the magnificent creatures, murmuring soft endearments to them as she went.  
  
"You have a way with them," he said, taking half of the remaining blankets from her and smiling. "They have not had such gentle treatment since we left the palace many months ago."  
  
She turned to find him just behind her, smoothing one of the blankets, and smiled. "My Lord, may I be so bold as to ask your name?"  
  
"Of course, Lady. Forgive me. My friends call me Calen." He patted one of the horses lightly on the nose.  
  
"Lord Calen," she repeated, and he laughed.  
  
"No. Just Calen."  
  
"Very well," she replied. You may call me Isabella."  
  
"But, Lady-"  
  
"Please, Calen. Until today, I had never been called Lady anything. As you can see, my father wished to raise me outside the strict rules and regulations of the Court, so my title sounds strange to me. I feel as if you are speaking to someone else when you use it."  
  
He regarded her with great interest as she filled buckets with oats for the horses. "As you wish… Isabella."  
  
She stopped what she was doing, feeling his eyes upon her. "What? Why do you stare at me so?"  
  
He looked surprised. "Forgive me L… er… Isabella. It is just that I have never met a noble quite like you before."  
  
"And I have never met a member of the Royal Guard before, so I guess that makes us even. How did you come to be lost so far from the palace?"  
  
He sighed and sat on a nearby bale of hay, rolling his eyes. "The prince rides far and wide seeking a wife, for his father has commanded him to marry before the year is out. We are weary, Isabella. The prince has met so many Ladies that he cannot possibly hope to keep them all straight. Persnickety, whining babies most of them are, interested only in his crown. He seeks love, My Lady. True love, not just a good match. And his father will have all our heads if we do not find him a wife, and soon."  
  
"So it is true," she said, "We had heard, but this far out it is hard to know for sure if what we hear is rumor or truth." She looked at him. "I am afraid, Calen, that most of the Ladies here in Forest River are just as you say the others were. Most of them will have nothing to do with me, though I do enjoy watching them ride by in all of their finery. I wish that I could be of more help."  
  
"Well," he said, "What about you? Wouldn't you like to be princess of Mirkwood?"  
  
"Me!" she exclaimed, "My good sir knight, do I look like princess material to you?" she gestured to her frumpy leggings and slightly ragged tunic. "You have been here less than an hour and I have already called you a vile pig and failed to curtsy to the prince. I am hopeless as a noble and will never be a proper Lady. No, being the princess of Mirkwood does not interest me in the least." She paused for a moment and laughed. "Can you keep a secret?"  
  
He nodded. "Of course."  
  
"If I were to go to the Court of King Thranduil, I would rather be a member of his Royal Guard than a princess."  
  
Calen looked surprised. "Can you fight, then?"  
  
"Can I fight?" she exclaimed, "You claim to know my father, yet you ask if a child of his can fight? Of course I can fight! That is one of the reasons the Ladies of Forest River will have nothing to do with me."  
  
"Well, that is their loss, I think," said Calen. "Come. The horses are fed and warm, and it sounds as if the rain has lightened ever so slightly."  
  
She nodded in agreement, and moments later, the two of them dashed through the rain and wind to the cottage of Lord Narulas. 


	3. Rivalry

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
3.  
  
For three days, the rain continued to pour forth from the sky, and for three days, the cottage of Narulas and Isabella was filled with jolly laughter and conversation. The small house seemed to put the royal delegation at ease. The company had plans to continue to the home of the governor once the river was safe to ford. There they would be required to behave like royals, but for the time being their surroundings made them forget about the rigid structure of Thranduil's Court. Because of this, Isabella and her father were able to witness the deep friendship between Prince Legolas and Calen as they told jokes and tales late into each evening.  
  
Isabella hung on every word of those tales, watching with wide eyes as the guards retold and reenacted many of them.  
  
"Do you enjoy our talk of adventure, Isabella?" asked Calen late on the first evening, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"Yes, My Lord," she replied softly as she refilled his goblet with wine.  
  
"Calen," he corrected her gently, his eyes locking with hers for a long moment. "Just Calen."  
  
She smiled at him and shook her head, unable to think of addressing him in such an informal way in the presence of so many others. Finally turning away, she moved about the room making sure that everyone was comfortable before settling onto the bearskin rug by the fire with a basket of wool which she began to card as the stories continued.  
  
Her father enjoyed telling tales of his days with the king, but most of all, he enjoyed telling tales of his daughter. He spoke of the time she had fashioned a bow and arrows out of twigs and string when her mother had refused her a real one, and of the thrashing she had given to the village bully when he had made her cousin and dear friend Hwestawen cry. He also told of the way she cared for him after Liriliel's death, and the way that the other young Ladies of Forest River had shunned her after she went with the warriors to fight a pack of Wargs that had wondered too close to their homes.  
  
Working with wool became Isabella's main occupation throughout the next fortnight while they waited for the river to quiet, for carding and spinning kept her hands busy while she listened to the tales. She especially enjoyed listening to Calen. He sang songs and told tales along with the prince and the other guards as she produced spool after spool of yarn.  
  
Narulas smiled knowingly when he noticed his daughter's sudden obsession with the wool, and the fact that she had traded her leggings and tunics for the simple dresses her aunt had brought on her last visit. He noticed also that Calen sought his daughter out at every opportunity, and this pleased him greatly.  
  
Her father's obvious approval of the captain of Legolas' guard took Isabella by surprise, but she did not question it for she was too busy enjoying his attention. She looked forward to his friendly whispered comments by the fire while the others laughed and joked, and to the brief moments they were able to spend alone while they tended the horses.  
  
The prince also sought her attention, it seemed, though she hoped that would change when the river became peaceful again and he met the other Ladies of Forest River. Sometimes the prince would interrupt her time with Calen in the stables, and at such times the captain would grow suddenly quiet and withdraw to the far corner of the room to pat one of the horses gently or whisper into its ear.  
  
Calen could not blame his friend. He knew Isabella was perfect for the throne of Mirkwood, but that did not stop his heart from growing to love her. And his heart rejoiced that she did not warm to the prince as she did to him. Legolas never failed to call her "Lady Isabella," and she addressed him always as "Your Highness." Absent was the warmth of her conversations with Calen when she spoke with the prince. Even when Legolas complimented her, she responded as one would at Court and not as one who was in love.  
  
"You are too kind, Your Highness," she would reply softly, quickly changing the subject.  
  
The evenings had grown ever chillier since their arrival, for winter was fast approaching. On one such frosty night, she had crept away from the cottage to visit the place where a memorial had been made to her mother and sat there for a long while, pondering the tales that her father had told that evening. He had told of her mother's arrival in Mirkwood, how the king had taken her in and given her a home. Isabella had heard the tale many times and could still almost hear her mother's voice saying, "If ever there is a favor that you can pay King Thranduil or his family, then do. For he was kind to me when I had nowhere else to go. If not for him, Isabella, you would not be here." And that is why Isabella was so willing to shelter Thranduil's son; why she would be willing to die for the king if need be; and why she wanted more than anything to join the Royal Guard.  
  
Sighing, she stood up. She missed her mother to the point that it chilled her to the bones, so she walked slowly toward the stables where a dim light glowed from beneath the door. The hint of a smile played upon her lips, knowing that Calen must be waiting for her within.  
  
The old barn door creaked as she entered and Calen turned abruptly toward her, his eyes filling with relief. "I was worried, Isabella. You did not tell us where you were going."  
  
"Forgive me," she said as she closed the door behind herself.  
  
He approached her quietly and captured her icy hands in his, rubbing warmth into them as he gazed into her eyes. "It is too cold to be out for so long."  
  
"It is not that cold, Calen, save for the wind."  
  
He lifted her hands to kiss them, still rubbing softly with his thumbs. "How do you keep them so soft?"  
  
She blushed and looked away. "The wool, Calen. Have you never noticed that when a young Lady's heart has been stolen, she takes to spinning wool into yarn? It softens the hands, you see."  
  
He caught her gaze once again and smiled. "You have been spinning almost constantly since our arrival. Tell me, has the Prince of Mirkwood caught your fancy?"  
  
She returned his smile. "The prince is handsome and kind, but it is not for him that I soften my hands."  
  
"Then who is it that occupies your thoughts as you spin, Lady Isabella?"  
  
For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, gazing at the floor, she murmured, "If I told you, I fear that you would only laugh, My Lord."  
  
"I very much doubt that," he replied, "but whoever he is, he's a very lucky Elf."  
  
"Do you really believe that?" she asked shyly.  
  
"Yes, I believe it. Even Prince Legolas has grown quite fond of you, you know. What would you do if he asked for your hand?"  
  
She laughed. "He would never!"  
  
"Do not be so sure," said Calen, "He courts you like he has courted no other since we began our journey."  
  
"You're serious."  
  
"Yes I am," he replied. "What would you do?"  
  
She sighed. "Oh, Calen, my heart does not lie with the prince, but if he asked for my hand…. Well…. I supposed that I would do my duty and marry him."  
  
"That is as it should be. But, with whom does your heart lie?" asked the warrior as he leaned near, his lips almost brushing her ear. He felt her hands tremble slightly as he held them firmly.  
  
"You, Calen," she whispered. "My heart lies with you."  
  
Their gazes met once again before he tipped her chin up and gently kissed her lips. "And mine with you," he replied, his heart growing light as he realized that the crown had no affect on her. "And mine with you." 


	4. Heartbreak

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
4.  
  
The more time that Isabella spent with Calen, the more she dreaded her time with the prince. Legolas tried his best to woo her with flowers and compliments that she received with gracious dignity, all the while worrying that he would choose her to be his bride. Calen, on the other hand, won her heart anew each time he smiled or spoke her name. She admired the midnight blue shade of his eyes, the way the sun danced and glinted in his hair, and the way the corners of his mouth turned upward just a little crookedly when he smiled.  
  
The two suitors were like night and day – one formal, serious, and dignified; and the other relaxed and easy-going. The strangest thing to Isabella was that their rivalry over her did not seem to affect the relationship between the prince and his captain. In fact, she often came upon them late at night when she could not sleep, speaking in hushed tones in some dark corner. The more they spoke, the more they vied for her attention, and the more they vied for her attention, the more often she found them whispering. It was beginning to drive her mad, so when they announced that they would be leaving the next morning, she sighed with relief. Perhaps the prince would find a proper match with the governor's daughter and leave her to live happily ever after with Calen.  
  
Unfortunately that was not meant to be. Late in the afternoon of that final day, Calen followed her to the stables and cornered her behind the hay bales.  
  
"Isabella, I've something to say to you, and not much time to say it." He spoke in hushed tones, more urgent than she had ever heard him use.  
  
"What is it, Calen?"  
  
"I need you to promise me something and not ask any questions. And if you love me as I love you, My Beautiful One, then you will comply."  
  
"I do love you," she whispered, taking his hands. "More than I have ever loved anyone."  
  
His expression grew even graver. "The prince has purposed it in his heart to ask for your hand this very night. He speaks with your father even now, and on the morrow we leave not for the governor's home, but for the palace of Mirkwood, for the king has summoned us there."  
  
Isabella's body grew numb and she began to tremble. She should be happy, she knew, but instead she was devastated. "Why? Why must he ask for my hand when it is obvious to everyone that I love you?"  
  
"I cannot answer your questions, My Love, though I desire to do so more than anything. But you must promise me something."  
  
She nodded and spoke in a shaky voice, "Anything, Calen."  
  
He gazed at her with such great love in his eyes that she was nearly overcome with it. "Please," he said, "accept the prince's proposal."  
  
"What?" she whispered.  
  
"You must agree to marry Legolas," he said gently.  
  
"Of course I must," she replied, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over onto her cheeks. "It is my duty, Calen. But how will I live, seeing you every day and being wed to him?"  
  
His eyes filled with pain as her tears began to fall. "I know not, Isabella. But Thranduil's son needs you. Mirkwood needs you. And… I truly believe the prince can make you happy."  
  
She could not bear even to look into his eyes. "Oh, Calen… Perhaps I am just not meant to be happy."  
  
He pulled her near and held her tight, running his fingers through her hair, drying the tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Isabella. So sorry, My Love…. Do not be afraid. Time will tell you that all is as it should be." 


	5. Sacrifice

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
***START A/N*** A little history on Isabella's mom for those who are confused/interested: Liriliel came from a kingdom by the sea where she was a princess. There was an uprising and her entire family was killed, forcing her to flee inland with a small group of maidservants and guards. She ended up seeking sanctuary with the Elves of Mirkwood where King Thranduil granted her a title and a place to live in the palace for as long as she desired it. She was killed in a flood when Isabella was 16 years old. Hope that answers some questions! :) Also, I'm going on vacation this weekend, starting tonight, and I'll try to keep updating, but I'm unsure of the internet access so no guarantees. Check back on Monday/Sunday night. There will be more then for sure if not sooner. ***END A/N***  
  
5.  
  
Isabella would not be rushed back to the cottage where the prince waited. She wept bitter tears in Calen's arms, clutching him to herself as if her very life depended on it.  
  
"Please do not weep," he begged her. "Please, Isabella. It is not so bad, I promise you."  
  
"How can it not be so bad?" she sobbed. "You must not love me as I love you or you would not say such things!"  
  
"I do love you," he whispered. "Isabella, I swear that I do. Please, just give it some time. I only desire what is best for you, but you must trust me."  
  
"Why is it that you decide what is best for me? Should I not decide that for myself?" She loved him and hated him all at once. Why did he not offer to run away with her? Why was he giving in so easily?  
  
He gently pushed her away, holding her firmly by her shoulders and gazing into her eyes. "Listen to me. You and I are very much alike. We are trained warriors and servants to the throne of Mirkwood. Sometimes sacrifices must be made for the sake of the kingdom, and though this one pierces my heart, I know that it is right."  
  
She tried to gain control of her tears and nodded. "My mind understands, but my heart never will."  
  
"The Elf who waits for you in your father's cottage has been my friend for longer than I can remember. We might as well be brothers. Please believe me when I say that he would never hurt you. I cannot blame him for loving you or for wishing you to be his princess."  
  
"Calen…" she whispered, finally checking her tears and trying to compose herself. "I do trust you, but this will be the most difficult thing that I have ever done. The prince deserves a wife who loves him…. How can I marry him when I do not?"  
  
"Time will tell," he replied, pulling her near again and kissing her gently. "Time will tell, My Love."  
  
***  
  
The prince was waiting for Isabella in the doorway of the cottage when she returned, asking if she would like to walk with him. Glancing back one last time to Calen who stood in the doorway of the barn, she consented and allowed the prince to take her hand.  
  
The moon shone down upon them as they strolled slowly to the river's edge and sat upon a rock there. They spoke of trivial things – the weather, the tales told the previous evening around the fire, and other such nonsense. But Isabella could tell that something weighed heavily upon Legolas' shoulders.  
  
"Your highness," she said softly, "Forgive me, but you seem rather burdened this night. Calen told me that you are leaving on the morrow. Is there trouble at Court?"  
  
"Nay, Lady. The king simply misses his son's presence there and has asked us to return for a time. I will be glad to go, for I have missed my home."  
  
She did not respond, but turned away as she fought back a sudden wave of tears. This did not go unnoticed by the prince and he took her hands gently. "Our departure saddens you?"  
  
"Yes," she said. "I will miss the time that we spent together here."  
  
His light blue eyes were full of kindness and love. "Would you like to come with us, Lady Isabella? What I mean to say is…"  
  
The prince's voice trailed away and she smiled up at him bravely, refusing to let her tears fall. She bit her lip so hard with the effort that she tasted blood.  
  
For a moment, he looked out to the water as if trying to gather his thoughts, and Isabella's heart went out to him. She knew he must be dreadfully anxious about the question he was about to ask, so she squeezed his hands gently in encouragement.  
  
"Lady Isabella… I have grown quite fond of you over these past weeks," he said softly.  
  
"And I you," she replied. It was not a lie for she truly had grown to enjoy his friendship.  
  
A look akin to relief flooded his features and he continued, "I know this may seem sudden and perhaps a little bit impulsive. But you have captured my heart, Lady Isabella. And… and I would be honored if you would return to the palace with us." He paused as she looked blankly up at him and added quickly, "I would have you for my princess, Lady, if it would please you. Will you join with the Royal Family of Mirkwood?"  
  
She tried to answer right away; tried, but no sound would come out of her mouth.  
  
He took her silence as reluctance and gazed earnestly into her eyes. "I know," he whispered, "that we have not known one another long. But I do love you, Lady Isabella. In all of my travels, I have never met anyone like you. And… perhaps you could grow to love me with time?"  
  
"Your Highness…" she finally managed, "I… Surely I am not worthy of such an honor. What will Mirkwood think of a princess who wears leggings and brandishes a sword?"  
  
"They will love her," he replied, his eyes glowing with excitement, "They will love her just as I love her."  
  
After a long pause, she replied so quietly he almost could not hear her, "Then yes, Your Highness, I will join with the Royal Family. I will be your princess."  
  
His smile seemed to light up the night as he leaned near to kiss her cheek. "My heart rejoices in your answer, Lady. Please accept this token of my love."  
  
She tried to smile as he slid the ring onto her finger; tried valiantly, at least, not to cry. A single tear trickled down her cheek, however, unnoticed by her companion, as they walked hand-in-hand through the chilly night back to the house of her father. 


	6. Hope

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
***START A/N*** One more before I go, and maybe another tonight… Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! This one's only 14 chapters long.***END A/N***  
  
6.  
  
Isabella's father greeted them at the doorway of the cottage when they returned, his eyes full of questions, and she tried to play the part of a happy bride-to-be. "Father… May I-" she paused and looked at the prince. "May we have a word with you?"  
  
"Of course, Isabella. Come inside. Everyone is in the stables, getting ready to leave in the morning."  
  
Just smile, she thought to herself. Smile and do not think and do not feel. Pretend that you are happy. Isabella clenched the fist that was not in Legolas' hand in frustration. She had never been good at lying, but she forced a soft smile onto her lips and a spring into her step as they walked inside and sat down. "I have-" her voice caught in her throat and she laughed nervously, looking down at the floor. "I have happy news, Father."  
  
"Is that so?" he asked cheerfully.  
  
"But of course you already know that Legolas –" she clapped her hand over her mouth and turned to the prince. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I did not mean to refer to you so familiarly."  
  
He smiled at her, unabashed joy in his eyes. "You may call me Legolas if you wish, My Dear."  
  
She nodded, knowing that she should give him permission to drop her title as well. But, she just could not bring herself to do it. "Father, Legolas has asked for my hand in marriage. He wishes for me to become Princess of Mirkwood."  
  
Her father's pleasant laughter filled the room. "And did you grant it, Isabella?"  
  
She cast what she hoped appeared to be a loving glance upon her betrothed and replied, "Of course, Father. Who am I to deny any request of the prince?"  
  
"Good girl!" shouted Narulas. "Good! You are right. I did know that he would ask, and I must say that I could not be happier! See, I have already packed your trunk and summoned your cousin Hwestawen who will accompany you to Court."  
  
The sadness that washed over her at that moment was like a great wave that threatened to drown her, and she could not keep the tears from falling. She had to think fast, lest her charade fail. "I… I will miss you, Father," she croaked, letting go of Legolas' hand and falling into her father's arms, sobbing.  
  
She could not see the look that her father exchanged with the prince. "Take good care of her," he mouthed silently as he held her trembling form in his arms. "Do not let her sorrow last for too long."  
  
Legolas had grown very serious and nodded gravely, his eyes softening with empathy for Isabella. He longed to take her in his own arms to tell her that everything would be all right, but he dared not. She would understand soon enough, and she would be the happiest bride that Mirkwood had ever seen. At least, that was his sincere hope.  
  
***  
  
Morning dawned bright and wintry, for the first frost of the year had fallen in the night. Along with the sun arrived Lady Hwestawen and her mother, Narulas' sister who fussed over Isabella like a mother hen.  
  
"Why look at you, My Dear! Pale and puffy-eyed. Whatever is the matter? It just will not do for the future princess. Did you not sleep well?"  
  
"No, Auntie," she replied truthfully, knowing her eyes were swollen with the many tears she had shed in the night. Upon waking, she had vowed to shed no more, and so far she had succeeded.  
  
"Well! You will tonight, Isabella. And I hope you will not fall asleep on your horse. Hwestawen! Hwestawen dear!"  
  
The tall, honey-haired she-elf came at once, abandoning the horses she had been admiring. Always the Lady, Hwestawen was dressed in a sturdy yet feminine traveling outfit, her hair done up in intricate braids. Her green eyes looked around her in wonder as she greeted her cousin with a hug and kisses on each cheek. "Where are they?" she whispered.  
  
"Preparing for the journey," answered Isabella, unable to keep a smile from her face. Her cousin's enthusiasm was always contagious. "Do not worry. You will meet them soon."  
  
"In the meantime, Hwestawen, take this and help your cousin dress properly for the journey," said Isabella's aunt, handing a bundle to her.  
  
***  
  
Hwestawen made short work of helping Isabella with her traveling outfit, and braiding her hair in the same fashion as her own.  
  
"You do not seem overly happy, Cousin," she said softly as she worked. "What is it that worries you?"  
  
As she laced up her sturdy boots, Isabella sighed. "I am glad that you are coming with me, Hwesta. You are my dearest friend."  
  
"You did not answer my question," she replied.  
  
Isabella looked up at her. "I will tell you, but you must swear to me that you will never tell another soul."  
  
"Of course," she answered, real concern showing in her eyes as she helped with the other boot.  
  
"To make a long story short, I love Calen, the captain of Prince Legolas' guard, and Calen loves me. But the prince asked for my hand and I could not refuse. Calen made me promise, for he and the prince are as close as you and me, and he could not stand the thought of breaking his friend's heart."  
  
"Oh, Isa. What will you do?" asked her cousin.  
  
"What else can I do but accept it?" replied Isabella. "But come, it will be easier to feign happiness with you at my side. We shall have a grand adventure on the way to the palace and I shall teach you how to shoot and fence."  
  
Hwestawen's eyes lit up. "You will?"  
  
"Yes. But you must teach me how to be a proper Lady in return."  
  
She laughed. "That is why your father summoned me, Lady Isabella."  
  
***  
  
When the two young Elves descended the stairs and appeared outside the cottage, Narulas and his sister looked at them with satisfaction. The elder Lady smiled at her niece. "Your mother would be so proud, my dear. How lovely you have grown. No wonder you captured the prince's heart!"  
  
She could not help but blush at the compliment, though her heart was still heavy.  
  
"And look! Here he comes now!"  
  
From the stables, Calen and Legolas strode toward them, smiling and talking animatedly about some aspect of the journey. "…father will love her," was all she caught from the prince.  
  
"He will indeed," replied Calen as they stopped short before the party that had gathered.  
  
Hwestawen was so excited that she could hardly breathe. Her mother, on the other hand, had approached Calen and curtsied deeply. "Your Highness," she intoned softly.  
  
Isabella's heart beat faster when he smiled at the elder Lady in mirth. "My Dear Lady, has it been so long? It is I, Calen! Here is your prince!" He motioned to his friend, and the Lady blushed and curtsied again.  
  
"Forgive me," she said with an amused smile, "Your Highness, you have certainly grown since I last saw you!"  
  
"I was only a child when you last were at my father's court," agreed Legolas. "But well met, and thank you for bringing your lovely daughter Hwestawen to help on the journey. I fear my Isabella would be quite lonely among ten males for three days."  
  
At the mention of her name, Hwestawen sank into a curtsy as well. "Lady Isabella is my dearest friend and I would follow her anywhere, Your Highness." she said.  
  
Their eyes met and seemed to linger just a little bit longer than necessary. "A pleasure meeting you, Lady Hwestawen!" he said sincerely, kissing her hand gently. "Now we shall have two lovely Ladies to accompany us home."  
  
Isabella's heart skipped a beat. Was that admiration that burned in the prince's eyes as he gazed at her cousin? For they held an interest that she had never seen when he looked at her. Hope welled up in the future princess, and she managed a real smile for the first time since the previous day. "Well then, shall we be off?" 


	7. Leaving Home

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
7.  
  
Calen, Legolas, and the others considered the scene before them with puzzled expressions on their faces. Twelve horses, nine guards, one prince, two Ladies, and two very large trunks.  
  
As the males stood around discussing this problem, Isabella was utterly embarrassed. How many times had she taken off on adventures with nothing but her bow and quiver of arrows, her sword, a bedroll, and the clothes on her back?  
  
"What is in that thing?" she asked her father quietly. "I need nothing but what I have here for the journey." She gestured to the small bag and quiver at her feet.  
  
"I have no doubt about that, but you will be glad to have it once you arrive at the king's palace. It contains your mother's belongings and clothing appropriate for Court.  
  
"Perhaps a cart?" suggested one of the guards, and Calen shook his head.  
  
"A cart would require that we stay on the road. It would take too long."  
  
"And be too dangerous," added the prince. "King Thranduil warned us to stay away from the road."  
  
In the end, an extra horse was brought out and the trunks unpacked into soft leather packs to go on its back. Not everything would fit, so a pile of clothing and other odds and ends were left lying at the door of the cottage. Mostly comfortable clothes, noted Isabella with a disgruntled sigh.  
  
"What troubles you, My Lady?" asked Calen gently.  
  
Isabella looked up at him. Those were the first words that he had spoken to her since she had accepted the prince's proposal and she longed to reach out to touch him – his hand, his face, his shoulder – anything! She kept her arms firmly at her sides, however, and made a valiant effort to smile at him light-heartedly. "I think, My Lord, that I would rather leave the gowns behind and take that which is laying here at my feet." But, her smile came out more like a grimace and she turned away from him abruptly.  
  
Calen chanced a light touch on her elbow, whispering, "You look lovely, Isabella."  
  
She jerked away, her heart breaking at the hurt look in his eyes. "Please," she begged almost inaudibly, "Please do not touch me or I shan't be able to bear it."  
  
"But Isabella-"  
  
"Please!"  
  
He bowed and backed away, a stiff formality descending upon him. "I am sorry, My Lady."  
  
A moment later, she was saying farewell to her father who promised to join her at Court as soon as he was able. She looked up at him with eyes full of unshed tears, unable to say anything at all and he pulled her close. "Though I know that your heart rebels, you are doing the right thing. Rest assured that great joy will come of your loyalty to Mirkwood's Royal House," he whispered gently in her ear, stroking her hair as he did so.  
  
"Lord Narulas, have you a message for us to take to the king?" asked Calen.  
  
"Yes!" said her father, "Indeed!" He thought for a moment, stroking his chin. "Tell the king that I send my greatest treasure to him, and that he'd best take care of her! Or else!"  
  
The guards chuckled as Calen bowed. "I will deliver the message personally," he said.  
  
Narulas turned his attention to his daughter once more. "Now, Isabella, take this and keep it with you at all times while you travel. For the wilds of Mirkwood hide many dangers." He handed her a sword, its curved blade glinting in the early morning light.  
  
"Narulas!" said his sister, "It is not appropriate for a Lady to carry such a weapon!"  
  
"Perhaps not," he replied, "but it is necessary." He kissed his daughter one last time, whispering, "There is another stowed in your luggage for Hwestawen. Teach her well."  
  
Isabella nodded. "May the stars watch between us while we are apart," she said. "I shall miss you, Father."  
  
"And I you, Isabella."  
  
***  
  
They rode swiftly to the edge of the Wood before lunchtime, the breath of their horses sending clouds of mist into the chilly air. Isabella's cheeks tingled with the cold, her gloved fingers numbing a bit as she gripped the reins.  
  
"Alright?" she asked Hwestawen when they paused for their midday meal. Her cousin eyed the edge of the Wood with suspicion and fear.  
  
"Yes," she answered, dismounting. "I've just never been so near the forest."  
  
Isabella dismounted as well, approaching the horse that carried their luggage. He stood off a ways to the side and Calen was tending him gently.  
  
The Elf's eyes met hers briefly before falling away. "My Lady?"  
  
"Calen," she spoke softly so that the others could not hear, "I am sorry for this morning. My will is weak and each time you look at me I fear… I fear…"  
  
"What do you fear?" he asked.  
  
She sighed, "That my resolve will fail and I will turn around and run home to my father."  
  
"You mustn't," he whispered. "If you did my heart would ache worse than it already does."  
  
"As, I fear, would mine," she replied, finding the sword that her father had stashed away for Hwestawen. "For at least this way I can still see you."  
  
He drew a little nearer to her, speaking in hushed tones. "Isabella, I must tell you something," he said. "And you must not speak of it to your cousin. The prince does not want even you to know… at least not yet."  
  
Her eyes filled with concern. "What is it, Calen?"  
  
"The reason that we ride with such great haste to the palace, through the Wood and not on the road…"  
  
"I had wondered," she said when he paused, "and I have had the feeling that we are in some kind of danger since we set out this morning. I could tell by the way my father looked at me when he handed the sword to me."  
  
Calen nodded. "Your instincts are good. There has been a threat on Prince Legolas' life. That first night when we sought shelter in your father's barn, the would-be assassins were pursuing us through the rain. When you came upon us, we were afraid that you were the enemy. That is why you were greeted with two arrows pointed at your heart. Fortunately, our pursuers had lost our trail and we were safe as long as we stayed with you and your father. Who would think to look for the prince at the small cottage of Narulas? We knew from the start that we would not continue to the governor's house, for that is where the enemy would likely try to find us."  
  
"Yet you stayed on with us for a fortnight."  
  
"Yes. We stayed longer than we should have."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Calen sighed. "Because the Prince of Mirkwood was intrigued by you the moment he first saw you."  
  
She looked suddenly to see all of their companions casting curious glances in their direction. "Excuse me, My Lord." With that she turned, her voluminous cloak swirling around her as she did. Approaching her cousin, she presented the blade to her. "Here, Hwesta," said Isabella. "A gift from my father. Do you remember what I taught you?"  
  
A gleam showed in the Lady's eyes. "I have practiced in secret as often as I could." She wrapped the belt around her waist and sheathed the sword at her side. "Mother caught me once and threatened that I should never be left alone with you again."  
  
Isabella laughed and drew her own blade. "On guard!"  
  
With a giggle, Hwestawen complied and the two fought back and forth for a few moments before the prince bade them stop, looking about as if he heard something.  
  
When they caught their breath, the Ladies could hear it too. Hoof beats – five or six horses, it seemed, riding hard in their direction. 


	8. Into the Wood

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
   
  
8.  
  
   
  
"Shall we flee?" asked Calen, looking at the prince.  
  
   
  
"No time," he replied. "Stay behind us, Ladies."  
  
   
  
All mounted their horses and Isabella and Hwestawen obediently fell back with the prince behind the line of Royal Guards. Isabella, however, drew her sword and positioned herself to defend the prince if need be.  
  
   
  
When the riders came into view, Prince Legolas came forward. "Stay behind me, Lady Isabella."  
  
   
  
"Nay, Your Highness. I will sooner die than let the heir to Mirkwood's throne fall."  
  
   
  
There was no time for further argument as the riders thundered toward them at break-neck speed.  
  
   
  
"Halt!" shouted Calen over the sound of their hoof beats when they were near enough to hear. The small party pulled their horses up short a mere twenty feet away, raising their hands in the air when the saw the nine Royal guards with arrows nocked.  
  
   
  
"Hail, Prince Legolas," said their leader. "We mean you no harm. We are but a small band of warriors from Forest River."  
  
   
  
Isabella recognized them at once and she smiled. "They speak the truth, Calen."  
  
   
  
"My brother Herudir leads them," added Hwestawen.  
  
   
  
"State your business," commanded Calen as the small party's horses danced beneath them.  
  
   
  
Herudir came forward, acknowledging the prince with a nod. "My Lord, there are foul rumors afoot in this land. We have come to offer our services to see you and the Ladies safely back to the palace."  
  
   
  
"You have with you one of our best fighters, Your Highness," added one of the Elves under Herudir's leadership. "And we are loath to let her leave us without a proper farewell."  
  
   
  
Calen glanced back at Legolas who nodded to his guards. They lowered their weapons at once.  
  
   
  
"We accept your offer," said Calen, dropping his arrow into the quiver at his back. "Come and join us, for we had just halted for a midday meal."  
  
   
  
All dismounted once again and Herudir greeted his cousin with a kiss on the cheek. "Well, cousin! I must say you look absolutely…" he paused to search for a word that would not be found.  
  
   
  
"Ridiculous," she finished for him, looking down at herself. "I know."  
  
   
  
"No!" he exclaimed, "Not ridiculous. You're lovely, Isa. Absolutely beautiful!"  
  
   
  
The others in his party agreed as they helped a laughing Hwestawen down from her horse. "I never thought that I would see the day that Isabella would trade her bow and quiver for the silken gowns of the king's Court," said one of them.  
  
   
  
"I have traded nothing," she replied firmly.  
  
   
  
Herudir laughed. "The Prince of Mirkwood has impeccable taste, it seems, though I always imagined that we would be escorting her to the palace for training as a Royal Guard, and not as the future Princess." He bowed gracefully to his cousin whose face reddened in embarrassment.  
  
   
  
"Please, Herudir…" She had not wanted the prince to know her secret aspirations.  
  
   
  
"She is, of course, her father's daughter," replied the prince, noticing his Lady's distress. "I have no doubt that she is a fine warrior. All the more reason for me to admire her."  
  
   
  
Calen smiled at that comment. "Well spoken, Your Highness."  
  
   
  
The group ate quickly and swiftly took to the forest not an hour later, cantering over the rough terrain. There was not much conversation as they traveled, and only Hwestawen who knew nothing of the threat on Prince Legolas' life was unaffected by the imminent danger. She rode with the free spirit of one who was on a grand adventure while the others were quiet and cautious.  
  
   
  
"What think you of the forest of Mirkwood, Hwestawen?" asked the Prince as they slowed to a walk for a few moments.  
  
   
  
The Lady looked at her surroundings as if intrigued by them. "It is so very dark," she replied, "and the shadows frighten me, Your Highness. Yet it is quite beautiful. I have never seen so many different shades of green."  
  
   
  
"And you, Isabella? What do you think of your new home?" he asked.  
  
   
  
She looked at the prince and smiled, for the freedom of a journey almost always lifted Isabella's spirits, no matter how bad her mood. "I shall miss the warmth of the sun shining full and bright upon my face, Prince Legolas. But I feel that with time my heart could grow quite content here."  
  
   
  
Calen rode up beside her then as well. "Mirkwood is a lovely place, My Lady, and it is not always so dark. I fear a storm may be approaching. See? The sun has hidden behind the clouds. Perhaps Mirkwood has prayed the sun to do so that she might hide her face."  
  
   
  
"And why would Mirkwood wish to hide her face from her prince?" asked Isabella, not daring to look at the Captain.  
  
   
  
"She has been shamed by the radiance of your beauty," he replied quietly.  
  
   
  
The compliment spoken so near to the ears of her betrothed took Isabella off guard and she was speechless. Her eyes clouded momentarily with tears, which she stubbornly forced back down. Why must he say such things to her? Guiding her horse nearer to the prince, she murmured, "You are too kind, My Lord."  
  
   
  
The words stung, but Calen could not blame her. She had done what he asked her to do and accepted the prince's proposal of marriage. Now she valiantly tried to be faithful to that promise because that was the way she was: honest and true to her very heart. This was yet another reason why he loved her so, and he could not bear to see her suffer this way. He backed away in silence, leaving her to converse quietly with his best friend.  
  
   
  
Before long, they picked up the pace once again, practically galloping through the ever-darkening Wood. Left alone with her thoughts, Isabella's disposition became downcast. Oh that I could command my heart to do my will, she thought to herself. That I might love the prince with the same intensity that I love Calen. Yet I cannot. I am doomed to a life of sadness and worse; I am doomed to bring Legolas the same. For she knew that the prince loved her, even if he did pay some attention to her cousin. She could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice when he spoke to her. Almost in a panic, she wondered if he could see her lack of the same when she looked at him. For the next hour, she kept her eyes cast downward, her heart spiraling into despair.  
  
   
  
Herudir noticed this and begged a word with the prince. "Your Highness, forgive me, but may I ask a frank question?"  
  
   
  
"You may," he replied.  
  
   
  
The young warrior looked him right in the eyes. "What have you done to my cousin?"  
  
   
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
   
  
Herudir explained himself. "I suppose you do not know her as I do, My Lord. I have been on many journeys with Lady Isabella and I have never seen her behave as she is doing now. She rides always with a bow or sword at the ready when the situation is dangerous, and she does neither now."  
  
   
  
The prince nodded. "She knows not of the danger, my friend."  
  
   
  
"Why not?"  
  
   
  
"I did not wish to frighten either her or Lady Hwestawen," replied Legolas.  
  
   
  
"Your Highness, if you have not yet noticed, Isabella is not a typical Lady. Even if you did not tell her of the danger, she would have sensed it. Yet look at her. She rides as one lost in thought and pays no heed even to the direction of her horse."  
  
   
  
Legolas looked back at her in surprise, his heart filling with concern. "Is she really so distraught?"  
  
   
  
"Frankly, it frightens me, Prince Legolas. I have seen Elves fade to death because of great sorrow, and this is how it always begins. I do not know what causes her to behave in such a way, but it must be stopped, and soon."  
  
   
  
"I quite agree," said the prince.  
  
   
  
It was now early evening and a chill wind had begun to blow. Calen called a halt at a small pond to allow the horses time to rest and refresh themselves, and each of the Elves ate a bit of lembas for nourishment.  
  
   
  
Isabella practically collapsed beneath a great tree, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her head upon them. She did not weep, for she had promised herself that she would not, but the pain of her current situation tore brutally at her heart until she felt that she could quite easily curl up there and die. They frightened her, these thoughts of death, and she lifted her head to find some hope in… she did not know what. Something of beauty, perhaps? A shaft of light shining through the leaves?  
  
   
  
"My Lady Isabella," said Legolas, coming up beside her and taking her hand. "It is time to start out once again. You look tired. Will you ride with me?"  
  
   
  
"I am fine, Your Highness. Just a little bit out-of-sorts. I have never been so far from home."  
  
   
  
"Please," he said softly, taking her ice-cold hands in his. "You are much to cold to ride alone and I have some things I would like to say to you in private."  
  
   
  
She sighed. "As you wish, Prince Legolas."  
  
   
  
Thus their pace was slowed as Calen led Isabella's riderless horse and Legolas settled the future princess in front of him in the saddle. He wrapped one protective arm about her and bade her lean back into his warmth. "I promise I will not take advantage, My Lady," he coaxed quietly. "I have many things to say to you that cannot be shouted over the sound of galloping horses." 


	9. Comfort

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
9.  
  
Isabella did not realize how cold she had allowed herself to become; so cold that she felt numb and detached from the world around her. She was suddenly ashamed of herself. Hadn't she always thought herself to be stronger than this? Yet she could not force the bitter ice from her bones. "I am frightened," she whispered to the prince and he held her more tightly.  
  
"What is it that frightens you?" he whispered in reply.  
  
She shuddered slightly in his arms. "I feel that my heart has turned to ice… and I am powerless to melt it."  
  
"Let me help you, My Lady," he murmured, willing his warmth into her. It enveloped her completely and she began to shiver as feeling returned to her limbs. "Surely you have been taught how to stay warm in wintry weather?"  
  
"Yes, Your Highness. Strengthen the fire that burns ever in my heart. Yet I fear that flame has gone out."  
  
"I assure you it has not or you would no longer be here with us," said Legolas, his free hand rubbing one of hers gently. Her shivers became more violent, and he knew that meant she was warming. "Close your eyes and concentrate, and you will find it."  
  
Isabella tried but quickly gave up. "My heart despairs unto death," she whispered through trembling lips.  
  
"My Beautiful Princess," he sighed gently "Tell me what has caused a black cloud to cover your radiant heart, and I shall command it away. For it grieves me greatly to see you so downcast."  
  
She was stubbornly quiet for a long moment, though her heart began to soften toward the prince and she leaned her head back against his shoulder. "I cannot speak of it, Prince Legolas." Her shivering had stopped at last, her skin beginning to radiate some warmth of its own.  
  
"I only wish to help," he said quietly, casting a worried glance at Calen who rode alongside and not far off, listening to every word with his keen ears.  
  
"Then continue to speak to me, for your voice reminds me that I am not alone."  
  
"Very well, Isabella. I shall speak to you of your mother."  
  
She allowed the shadow of a smile to pass over her face as he began to tell his tale.  
  
"Long ago, nigh on eight hundred years now, a beautiful maiden was found wondering in the Wilderness of Mirkwood. I was very young then, and Calen was only newly born, but I remember it clearly. She was the loveliest Elf that any of us had ever seen. Liriliel had eyes that seemed to reflect the fathomless waters of the sea from which she came, and hair of gold spun with the fiery red of sunset." He paused for a moment, as if recalling her to his memory and then added. "You look just like her, Isabella."  
  
Calen smiled in the darkness as he rode along, remembering the special bond his best friend had shared with the mysterious visitor from the sea. She had been like a mother to him and he like a son to her. All of Mirkwood had been charmed by their deep love for one another.  
  
"Your mother cared for me," continued Legolas as they rode along. "My own mother had gone West to the Havens when I was still but a babe, so Liriliel stood in her place. She used to sing to me at night to help me rest."  
  
"Me too," whispered Isabella. "The most wonderful songs about her home by the sea."  
  
"Yes," replied the Prince. "About sea gulls and dolphins and white sand glittering in the sunlight."  
  
"And the sound of the waves as they slid into shore," she added.  
  
"And the reflection of the moon upon the water, and the smell of the salt- water air."  
  
Isabella closed her eyes. "And the sensation of the cool ocean breeze against her face on a hot summer day."  
  
The two were silent for a long moment before Isabella began to sing in her fair Elven voice the lullaby that her mother had sung to her as a child. Three lines she sang before she stopped, her memory failing her, and there the prince picked it up. Back and forth they traded the verses, sometimes singing together and other times singing alone until tears of longing slid down both of their faces.  
  
When the song died away, Isabella spoke in a voice soft with love. "I miss my mother."  
  
The prince could not reply, but kissed the tip of her pointed ear in agreement as a gentle snow began to fall. After a moment, he spoke so quietly that not even Calen could hear. "I love your mother with the love of ten sons. On the day that she left with your father for Forest River, she bade me always look after you and keep you safe if any harm should ever befall her. She entreated me to see to your happiness as well, and that I am doing now, though I know you do not understand."  
  
"Legolas, I-"  
  
"Shhh," he interrupted, still so quiet that his voice seemed almost a dream to her. "Beautiful One, I know that your heart longs for Calen. Rest assured that I know it, and that your happiness is of my foremost concern. I would never seek to hurt you, for my love for you is as strong as it was for your mother. But you must trust me if you can find it in your heart to do so, for I can say no more at this time except for this: Things are not always as they seem. Do not let your heart despair." 


	10. Into the Water

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
10.  
  
On and on their path seemed to lead them. For hours after the sun had set they rode on in silence, Isabella allowing the prince to hold her against himself as she gathered her thoughts and willed her spirits to rise. Legolas' serene strength seemed to surround her, and as they traveled through the whirling snow, she fell into the first deep sleep she had known in many weeks and dreamed of her mother.  
  
***  
  
It was pitch black and snowing furiously when Isabella came to herself again. She had no idea how she had come to be where she was: wrapped in many blankets and cloaks beneath an outcropping of rock. Sitting up slowly, she noticed that someone had unbound her hair and loosened her clothing. Nearby a small fire had been lit, and she could see Prince Legolas and Calen clearly in its light, talking in low whispers as they had at her father's cottage. They were beautiful, the two of them, and she loved them both: Legolas with his noble temperament and comforting words; and perfect, wonderful Calen who made her heart beat faster. Calen who loved her for who she was and who could calm her fears with a single glance. She longed for his warm embrace now as the cold seeped through the blankets to her.  
  
"Calen," she whispered before she could stop herself.  
  
He heard her and rose at once, pausing uncertainly to glance at the prince.  
  
"Go to her," he said quietly, also standing. "I will leave you for a time. Bring her what comfort you can, my friend."  
  
She shifted slightly as the blankets slipped, allowing the cold air access to her skin. A small shiver ran through her as Calen neared and sat beside her.  
  
"How do you feel, Lady?" he asked, gently brushing a few strands of hair from her face. She was so beautiful like this, her hair hanging about her face and her eyes full of undisguised love. He could tell that she was not yet on her guard. Such deep sleep was not common among Elves, and those who experienced it often found it difficult to recover.  
  
"Oh, Calen," she whispered, "I know not how I feel… except that I still love you."  
  
"Isabella…" His gaze traveled over her as she freed herself from the blankets. Her gown hung loosely about her and she reminded him of a frightened child. "Please, let me hold you, My Love."  
  
She nodded and fell into his outstretched arms, burying her face in his golden hair, inhaling his scent and whispering words of love in his ear. "Just once more… once more and I shall remember it always…"  
  
He did not speak, but pulled her near, gazing deep into her eyes as his hands caressed her. His fingertips grazed her cheeks and explored the curve of her neck, and his lips followed suit, finally capturing her mouth as she lost control of the tears she had been suppressing all day. They streamed down her face and she gasped for air when he ended the kiss, her quiet sobs and whimpers breaking his heart.  
  
She fell asleep again as she wept, though not so deeply this time. She stirred as he wrapped her in the blankets, for an icy chill had descended upon her once again. He kicked himself for doing this to her. He should have stayed away, yet he could not. Even now, he could not bear to leave her side, and he kissed her gently again and again until his friend returned.  
  
"How is she?" asked Legolas, startled to see tear tracks down Calen's face.  
  
He shook his head. "I have only made it worse, I am afraid. She is so cold… I should have stayed away, but I am just an impatient fool. My friend… we must tell her the truth. I fear that she will not make it to the palace if we do not."  
  
"We cannot," replied the prince, "Though I do agree with you. I have awakened one of our guards and sent him with great haste to the palace. If he rides hard, we should be met tomorrow evening by a larger contingent from Thranduil's Royal Guard. At that time, we can tell her." He smiled.  
  
***  
  
Isabella woke again at dawn's first light to the sound of pouring rain. What was left of the snow was a slushy mess now, and though the air had warmed considerably, a definite chill was present. The Elves' breath still sent puffs of steam into the air, and Isabella began to shiver almost at once. Soon, though, she was numb again and, after allowing Hwestawen to help with her laces and her hair, she climbed onto her horse in a daze and followed behind the others.  
  
It was midday when the prince suddenly halted in front of them, looking around the forest as if there was something wrong. Herudir stopped as well, his brow furrowing as he tilted his head to one side. Then Isabella heard it too.  
  
Hoof beats. Isabella heard the unmistakable sound of hoof beats pursuing them once again.  
  
"We must fly," said Legolas calmly, spurring his horse into a gallop. All followed, racing through the Wood with great speed. Yet the hoof beets gained and grew louder.  
  
Perhaps this is where I will meet my end, thought Isabella as she hurtled through the Wood, blinded by her tears. I suppose it is for the best…  
  
The Elves were able to catch fleeting glances of their pursuers now when they looked back. They were Men. Ragged men with tattered clothing and shaggy hair, and they leered at Isabella as if she were a piece of meat to be devoured.  
  
Nearer and nearer they drew toward Mirkwood's future princess, and faster and faster she fled into the Wood behind her friends. Yet she did not really care but for the sake of Hwestawen if she lived or died.  
  
"The bridge has flooded!" came Calen's cry from the front of the pack. "We must turn and fight!"  
  
All pulled their horses up short and lined up along the swollen banks of the river, weapons drawn. Hwestawen was visibly shaking, but her sword was drawn and Isabella nodded to her. "Fight bravely, Cousin. You will do just fine."  
  
The battle was joined so quickly that Isabella's fighting instincts took over. She fought with all of the skill that her father had trained her to use, positioning herself in front of the prince despite his protests. Listening to the Men, she found out they believed Mirkwood belonged to them, and wanted to kill the prince to make their point to King Thranduil. It was the craziest thing that Isabella had ever heard and all were felled by Elven swords or arrows within a quarter of an hour. All except for one who charged at Hwestawen with his sword drawn.  
  
The Lady panicked as her horse reared up in fear. And, although the Man fell with six arrows through his chest, Hwestawen shrieked and splashed into the swollen river, the current grabbing her in its icy clutches and pulling her away rapidly until she was completely out of reach of the shore.  
  
At the moment her cousin hit the water, something snapped in Isabella's heart. With a fierce yell, she dove into the raging flood as well, not willing to let Hwestawen get away. "You took my mother!" she screamed at the river. "You took my mother, but you will not have my cousin!" 


	11. Struggle

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
11.  
  
The others watched in horror as Isabella threw herself into the raging river after her cousin. An alarmed shout issued from Calen's throat and he tried to follow but the prince held him back, enduring not a few curses and strikes from his friend's flailing hands. "No! Let me go! We cannot just let her drown!"  
  
"You forget yourself, my friend. Be calm! If you throw yourself into the river you will only perish with them."  
  
He turned and the two exchanged a glance that spoke volumes. "Branches!" shouted Calen. "Find long branches to pull them out!"  
  
***  
  
The icy water felt warm to Isabella at first because she was so cold, but its currents were strong. The river grabbed at her and tossed her about like a toy while she got her bearings, loosing her cloak and casting it aside. She wished she had thought to remove her boots before plunging into the water, for their waterlogged weight pulled her ever downward.  
  
Hwestawen was managing to stay afloat just a few feet in front of her. "Isa! Isa help me!"  
  
Isabella's heart pounded strongly in her chest, warmth rising in it and spreading throughout her body. "Just stay afloat, Hwesta! I am coming!" The sound of the water was deafening and she hoped her cousin had heard. She could do nothing but swim long strokes toward her, hoping to catch her hand. Then the two of them could figure out how to get out of this mess.  
  
***  
  
Before the others could do anything at all, the two Ladies had swept downstream and out of sight, and Calen was nearly mad with worry. "Just like her mother!" he shouted. "Just like her! Why?!"  
  
"All is not lost," said Herudir. "She and my sister both swim well. They will put up a fight such that the river has never known."  
  
On that note, armed with long branches and rope from their packs, they took off at a gallop downstream to try to catch a glimpse of the two Ladies.  
  
***  
  
Mere inches extended between their outstretched hands.  
  
"Just a little closer!" shouted Isabella, struggling to move forward while Hwestawen fought to stall against the river's pull. Their fingertips touched briefly before they were sucked down a roiling rapid in two separate directions.  
  
"Don't lose sight of me!" cried Hwestawen. "We will try again on the other side!"  
  
Isabella shouted her agreement and battled to keep sight of her cousin as they both were bashed against rocks and forced underwater, gasping for breath when they came back up. Finally the water calmed a bit, though the currents still swirled and carried them faster than an Elf could run. Desperately, they fought their way toward one another and caught hands, crying in relief that they had at least accomplished this. Before they did anything else, they tied themselves together at the waist with a short length of rope Isabella had kept on her belt. Then they attempted to make their way to the edge of the river.  
  
***  
  
There was no sign of them anywhere. The search party galloped to and fro looking for them, but found only Isabella's sopping wet cloak.  
  
"They are far down the river by now," said the prince. "See how fast the water flows? Come, we shall split into two groups. I, Calen, Herudir, and the party from Forest River will gallop ahead. You others, go more slowly and watch for them. They may be holding onto something in the river, or perhaps have made it out alive. Be thorough in your search. They must be found."  
  
***  
  
The river did not want to let the two she-Elves go. Currents pushed them toward the middle of the flood while they struggled mightily to reach the banks. Finally they did, but the flow was still so fast and strong that they could only grasp at branches and grass as they flew by. The branches broke and the grass simply slipped from their wet hands before they could pull themselves out of the water.  
  
"We are doomed!" sobbed Hwestawen, tossing yet another handful of twigs into the water.  
  
"Do not give up so easily," said Isabella. "Surely the others pursue us."  
  
"Unless they think us dead."  
  
"Your brother would have told them otherwise," she assured her, still desperately grasping at anything she could reach. She even grabbed at the earth, succeeding in nothing but obtaining a handful of mud.  
  
The river's banks began to rise a little steeply on either side, and at last, Isabella caught hold of the branch of a bramble bush.  
  
The jerk when they stopped their forward motion jarred them, and Isabella cried out in pain as the long, needle-like thorns on the branch pierced her skin. Yet she did not let go, nor could she for the thorns bore deep. Blood seeped from her wounds and dripped down her arm into the water and she clung to the bramble bush for dear life, her cousin drawing near to give some slack to the rope that stretched between them. Huddling together, the two Ladies wept tears of joy for another small victory. Now they had only to figure out how to climb out of the water, for the banks were steep and slick, even though they were not very high.  
  
"I've never been so frightened," whispered Hwestawen.  
  
Isabella did not answer as scenes from her mother's demise played again and again in her mind. Had Liriliel struggled in the river's icy grip the same way that they were now, only to be lost forever? "You'll not win!" she shouted at the river in rage. Her hand was throbbing, the thorns ripping cruelly into her flesh each time she attempted a better grip. "Do you hear me? You will not devour us!"  
  
***  
  
"Did you hear that?" asked Calen, circling his horse around. They had been galloping hard for nearly an hour.  
  
"What did you hear?" asked the prince.  
  
"A shout," he replied, "Isabella's fair voice shouting. Let us pray that it was not a trick of the river. Come!" He dismounted and ran to the water's edge, his party close behind him. 


	12. Rescue

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
12.  
  
The pain in her hand did not dull as the time passed, and Isabella tried to keep her mind on other things to make it bearable. She thought of Calen and the prince, and with the heart of a warrior, decided that if she was to be Legolas' wife, then she would give herself completely to that role. Of course she longed for perfect, true love. But without it she could still live. After all, what warrior on the battlefield did not long for home? And not one of them would abandon his post to return there. Neither would she abandon her duty. That was just the way things had to be.  
  
***  
  
Calen peered over the edge of the bank into the river and saw nothing but the troubled waters.  
  
"Are you sure that you heard her, Calen?" asked the prince.  
  
"Yes," he said. "I swear to you that I did. But she is not here."  
  
His friend called the rest of the party over and changed their plan. "We will look closely here, in this area. Call their names and listen carefully, for I feel that they are near. If we do not find them in ten minutes, then we will move on."  
  
"Your Highness," interrupted one of the Elves from Forest River who had gone to investigate movement and sound nearby in the forest. "Forgive me, but a large group of your father's warriors waits just over that rise." He pointed deeper into the forest behind them. "Shall I enlist their help?"  
  
He nodded. "Yes. They should join the search at once. Now go." Pulling Calen aside, he nodded. "You tell her the truth if you find her, Calen. She has suffered through our foolishness long enough."  
  
Calen nodded. "As you wish. And you will do the same?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
***  
  
"Does it hurt terribly?" asked Hwestawen softly as Isabella struggled against the urge to let go and shake free from the thorny branch.  
  
The Lady could only nod, tears streaming down her face. "But I will not let go. I will not."  
  
"I am sorry," whispered her cousin. "I wish it had been me who grabbed the branch."  
  
"No use in wishing, Hwesta…"  
  
The two were silent. They had tried multiple times to climb onto the shores of the river with no success, and they knew their only hope was to be found.  
  
"Perhaps we should shout for help?"  
  
Isabella shook her head. "We should only do so if we hear someone near. Otherwise our voices will give out."  
  
Hwestawen nodded. "Then shall we sing? It will take your mind away from your hand."  
  
***  
  
The prince walked along the shore of the river slowly, his keen eyes searching, sharp ears listening. "Isabella!" he shouted. "Hwestawen!"  
  
For five minutes he looked about, unable to find them though he felt in his heart that they were near. He sat down for a moment to think, perhaps to wait for the answer to come to him, and it was then that he heard it. The sound of two female Elven voices twined with the roar of the water. It was almost imperceptible, but it was there, and the prince leapt to his feet.  
  
"Isabella!" he shouted more urgently, "Hwestawen!" Listening for a response and getting none, he followed his ears upstream a ways and then to the edge of the water. Their voices were loud now. He could hear the words that they sang. "Hello!"  
  
The voices stopped short and then started up again, this time in excited yells. "Over here! We're over here!"  
  
Through the bushes, he caught a glimpse of red hair and a hand deathly white and smeared with blood. "I see you and I am coming!" he shouted as he sprinted toward the two of them, his heart beating wildly with joy.  
  
***  
  
Isabella had never seen anything more wonderful than the face of the prince peering over the bank of the rushing river at her.  
  
"Thank the Valar you are alive!" he exclaimed, taking firm hold of her wrist and carefully untangling her ravaged hand from the thorny branch. She could not help but cry out in agony as he did so and he apologized. "Forgive me, My Lady. It must be done."  
  
"Just get us out of the water," she begged through her tears. "And please don't let us go. Our strength is all but gone, Your Highness." 


	13. Revelation

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
13.  
  
Isabella lay shivering on the bank of the river, looking up at the now blue sky and trying to stop the world spinning around her. Her good hand still gripped Hwestawen's and relieved tears fell from both Elves' eyes. "We are alive," they whispered in disbelief. "We made it."  
  
"Yes," said the prince. "You did. Thank the Valar you are still alive, for I have something I must tell you, Isabella."  
  
"Give me a moment," she replied breathlessly, "for I have something I must say to you as well."  
  
She heard light Elven footsteps approaching and glanced up to see Herudir. He broke into a smile when he saw that they had been found and launched himself onto his sister, hugging and kissing her. "Oh, we were so worried! I am beyond happy to see you alive, Hwestawen! And Isabella. My heart sings to see the two of you again."  
  
Isabella blanched and yelped in pain as he took both of her hands in his and squeezed tightly.  
  
"Are you hurt?" he asked, letting go at once.  
  
She nodded through fresh tears. "Thorn bush," she said. "Was the only thing I could take hold of."  
  
"You did well, Cousin. You did well." He pulled a small parcel from a pouch on his belt and took her hand gently. "Not that I would expect any less from one of Forest River's finest warriors. Here. This will help with the pain." He applied a quickly concocted poultice to both sides of the puncture-wounds that riddled her hand and wrapped it with a clean bandage.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered, relaxing slightly as the pain dulled.  
  
"Now, I shall go and tell the others that the Ladies have been found. The king's guard has also joined the search, and His Highness has set camp just over that rise."  
  
"The king is here?" asked the prince in surprise.  
  
"Yes, Your Highness," replied Herudir. "And he has requested an audience with his son and the future princess as soon as it can be arranged. Here, I will take my sister back with me. Can you manage Isabella on your own?"  
  
"Of course," he said. "I will be along shortly."  
  
And before Isabella knew it, she was alone with the Prince of Mirkwood who gently helped her to sit up against a nearby tree.  
  
"Isabella," he said, gently wiping droplets of water from her cheek with his thumbs. "There is something that I must tell you before you meet the king."  
  
"Wait," she whispered. "Please. I… There is something I need to tell you first, before anything else is said."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Please. I will lose my courage if I do not say it now." She gazed into his noble blue eyes and gently reached for his hand. "I thought that I was going to die in that river, Legolas. I really did."  
  
"But you did not perish in the water, My Lady." He smiled softly at her.  
  
"No. I did not. And as I held onto that branch, I had some time to think about the way my life should have been; the way it should be if it did not end today."  
  
His eyes searched hers. "And what did you decide? I fear the answer for the way you are looking at me."  
  
The she-Elf had a fierce look in her eyes, as a warrior would have before battle. "My Prince," she said softly, "You have already said that you know my heart longs for Calen, and you are correct. I do love Calen deeply."  
  
"He is a noble Elf," replied the prince quietly.  
  
"And yet, you love me," she said, gazing upon him with sympathy.  
  
"I cannot deny it," he said, a look of strong loyalty burning in his sapphire eyes.  
  
"Then I shall try with all of my heart to return that love, Your Highness. This is my promise if you still desire me for your wife."  
  
His eyes were suddenly filled with remorse and guilt and he reached out to touch her face. "Lady Isabella, you are one of the most extraordinary Elves I have ever met. Your loyalty to the throne of Mirkwood is amazing, and I do love you. But not as a husband should love his wife."  
  
"What?" she asked, eyes wide. "Then why-"  
  
"Please, Lady, forgive me for my deception. For I am not the Prince of Mirkwood," he said. "And it is to him that you are now betrothed, not to me."  
  
A shocked silence engulfed her. She could say nothing, but could only stare at the Elf before her.  
  
"My name is Angil, My Lady. I am the Captain of Prince Legolas' guard."  
  
"Then who… Who is Prince Legolas?"  
  
He leaned forward and smiled. "You and I call him by his nickname. Calen."  
  
Isabella leaned her head against the tree, casting her eyes heavenward. She was bombarded with emotions. At once, she began to laugh; then moments later, to cry; then both at once. "I wanted to die."  
  
"I am sorry," he said, "My Lady, it was at my insistence that this was done, to protect the prince, for his life was being threatened. We traded places that I would be targeted instead of him."  
  
She shook her head. "I should have known. All of the things that you said and that he said. And when my aunt curtsied to him. She never forgets a face. Angil?"  
  
"Yes, My Lady?"  
  
"Please take me to Calen."  
  
***START A/N*** "Calen" means "green" in Elvish. :) One more chapter to go! ***END A/N*** 


	14. The End - Or is it the Beginning? :)

RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)  
  
14.  
  
Isabella was unable to see Prince Legolas right away, for he was with his father, King Thranduil. And, although she wanted to barge into the Royal Tent in her wet clothes, Hwestawen would not allow it. She dragged Isabella away to the opposite end of the camp and set to the work of cleaning her up.  
  
***  
  
Angil bowed as he entered the tent where King Thranduil sat with his son. "Your Highnesses."  
  
"Angil, my friend, how is Isabella?" asked Legolas, rushing forward to greet him. He had changed into his royal robes and wore a golden circlet upon his head. "They say that you found her. Is she well?"  
  
The captain smiled. "I did indeed, and she is well, aside from some minor wounds. She caught hold of a thorn bush which held her fast against the raging waters and the thorns pierced through her hand."  
  
Legolas grimaced against the thought of the pain. "Did you tell her?"  
  
"Of course, Calen. She was… beside herself. Laughing one moment; crying the next." He grinned. "This princess of yours has the heart of a lion, and loyalty to your family such as I have never seen. She told me the truth about her feelings for you before I could tell her our secret. She looked at me with such tenderness and told me she would try to love me if I still desired her for my wife."  
  
"Well," said King Thranduil with a laugh, "It appears you have finally met a Lady who cares nothing for the crown that you offer, My Son. You must be pleased."  
  
"Pleased? Father, wait until you meet her!"  
  
Thranduil nodded. "I have waited many long years to finally see Liriliel and Narulas' daughter. All this time, I have had only rumors of her beauty and her skill as a warrior. Not even she knows this, but in one year's time, she was supposed to come to court as an apprentice to Angil, to become a royal guard."  
  
"A rare honor for a female," murmured the captain.  
  
"That was her dream," replied the prince. "I asked her once if she would like to be Princess of Mirkwood, and she said no, she would rather be a Royal Guard." A cloud of worry crossed over his eyes. "I wonder, if given the choice…"  
  
"Oh, Calen," laughed Angil, "Do not even think such a thing! She would never choose her skill over you."  
  
Legolas nodded but the look of worry did not leave his face.  
  
***  
  
Isabella was stunned by the reflection that greeted her in the looking glass. Two hours of grooming and primping had left her looking like a true Lady, or even – dare she say it? – a princess. She wore her mother's gown, a light, flowing thing with a small train that faded from the dark blue to green to purple and back again. Her hair had been pulled back and up into a ponytail and then plaited with a thousand tiny braids that fell almost to her waist.  
  
When Hwestawen had revealed that Liriliel's pearls were hidden in the luggage, Isabella almost wept. Although she had never seen them, her father had always told her of their beauty, for such gems had never been seen in Mirkwood before her mother arrived. A circlet of them was placed upon her head, a necklace of them about her slender neck, and a multi-tiered belt of them about her waist.  
  
"I think you are ready," said Hwestawen, looking at her once more. "Come. We go to meet the king."  
  
***  
  
The prince almost did not recognize her when he saw her. His beloved; the one his heart loved; his life. She stood before him, strangely shy, and curtsied low.  
  
"Your Highnesses."  
  
Her voice was like music and Legolas sat frozen in time just gazing at her, willing her to speak again. Instead he heard his father's laughter.  
  
"It appears," chuckled the king, "that you have done the impossible, My Dear Isabella. You have stricken my son speechless."  
  
Legolas cast a brief glance at his father and stood slowly from his chair. Then, kneeling before Isabella, he lightly kissed her hand. "Your beauty takes my breath away, My Love," he said, his voice barely audible. "From the moment I first saw you… I loved you. I hope that you can forgive me for my deception."  
  
Isabella's heart skipped a beat. Her mouth was dry and her eyes were moist and she wished that she could reverse the two. "Oh, Calen…" was all she managed to say before falling into his arms, weeping for joy.  
  
He held her close, closing his eyes and losing himself in the essence of her – the warmth of her skin, the sound of her voice, the scent of her hair. "Please forgive me," he whispered in her ear, "Please forgive me."  
  
"Only if you can forgive me for being so childish," she whispered. "I should have known, Legolas. I should have known that everything would be all right, just like you said it would be."  
  
He warmed at her use of his true name. How long had he longed to hear her say it? The two of them held each other for a long time in silence until Isabella reluctantly backed away, curtsying to the king. "Forgive me, Your Highness. I-"  
  
"Do not apologize, My Dear!" exclaimed Thranduil. "Have you any idea how long I have waited to see this day? My son has found a match at last! And my heart sings all the more because he chose you, the daughter of two of the finest Elves I have ever known! Isabella, I have long wished for the day that Lord Narulas and Lady Liriliel's daughter would stand before me. Never did I dream that it would be under these circumstances. Welcome to my Court! And welcome to my family!"  
  
"Wait, Father," Legolas spoke hesitantly. "Do not be so quick to welcome her to the family. Perhaps she will change her mind about marrying me when she knows the plans that you had for her."  
  
"Nothing could change my mind, My Love. Nothing," she said.  
  
"Not even the chance at achieving your dream? There is a place for you on Mirkwood's Royal Guard should you choose to take it."  
  
She did not even have to think about this. "I belong wherever you are, Legolas. Is there a place for me in your heart as well?"  
  
Relief was bright in his eyes as he nodded happily. "There has been a place for you in my heart since the day I was born, Isabella. A place just for you." And he captured her mouth in a hungry kiss as the king looked on joyfully, already planning the grand celebration that would be his son's wedding.  
  
THE END.  
  
***A/N*** Rightie-o! Thanks for all of the wonderful reviews! Birdie, you always make me giggle with your insistence that Legolas should marry a girl named Birdie :)! Heehee! Right. So I've started on the prequel of Elenath, but it won't be posted for a while yet. Maybe a month. Maybe a couple of weeks. Got a lot going on right now, so it depends on that, but believe me, I'm writing as fast as I can!! Blessings to all! 


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